A Letter to my 26-Year-Old Self
I write this reflection
having recently celebrated
the 33rd anniversary
of my ordination into
Word and Sacrament Ministry.
I am therefore,
writing this reflection
as a letter to my 26-year-old self
for my ordination day.
Dear Charlene,
Today,
you will be ordained
into the Ministry of Word and Sacrament.
Today,
you will be surrounded
by family and friends.
Today,
hands of those who love you
and who have gone before you
will be laid upon you.
Today,
prayers will be prayed for you
and over you.
Today,
you will be filled with hope.
That is as it should be.
You have answered the call of the Holy Spirit
through the church
to preach and teach,
to administer the sacraments,
to care for God’s people in word and deed,
and to speak for justice and mercy in the world.
Today,
you will hear words of grace,
and you will speak words of covenantal commitment.
Today,
you will take Jesus’ yoke upon you.
Today,
you join a long line of God’s apostles
called to be ministers of grace.
Today,
you will join the ever-growing numbers of women
who have heard and answered this call.
There is immeasurable joy
that you will know in this life
to which you have been called.
It is a profound and holy calling
to walk with people through birth and death.
It is a profound and holy calling
to be trusted with people’s
most sacred stories.
It is a profound and holy calling
to speak truth to power.
It is a profound and holy calling
to speak words of forgiveness,
wash people in God’s life-giving waters,
and feed God’s people
at the table that stretches all the way to heaven and back.
You will make a difference in people’s lives.
Others will know Jesus’ love because of you.
You will lead worship
that draws people
into experiences of the presence of God.
You will preach with power,
and through your words,
you will reach into the tombs
where people have buried their lives,
and God will raise people to new life.
The Incarnation in John 1,
the Road to Emmaus in Luke 24,
and the Woman at the Well in John 4
will all become
defining stories for you.
You will fall in love with campus ministry.
You will teach people to preach.
Catherine of Sienna
will become a spiritual guide.
You will become passionate
about vocation.
You will be humbled
by the immense trust
that people will place in you.
You will rejoice
that so many –
so many --
you have accompanied
will answer the call to a life of public ministry.
You will be filled
with the joy of accompaniment
amid spiritual discernment.
You will be a holy presence of care
and a voice for women.
You will be surprised by the places
that you will get to serve.
And
you will be refined by fire.
This is a hard
and holy calling.
You will experience
the Body of Christ
in all of its frail brokenness.
There will be those who will be unkind –
outright mean at times,
even vile.
There will be those
who do not want to hear
words of grace –
from you.
There will be those
who will treat you
as less than human
because you are a woman,
and because
you are a woman
who loves a woman.
There will be those
who reject you
because of their understandings
of what the Bible says.
You will experience things
that you will have a hard time believing capable
from the people of God.
You will be hurt.
Your heart will break.
And
you are called
to Word and Sacrament Ministry.
For this you were created.
Through that great cloud of witnesses
that surrounds you,
you will never be alone.
The Holy Spirit will be a mantle
around your shoulders.
The Gospel will be a seal upon your heart.
God will bring good out of the evil.
That is not a platitude –
it is a promise.
There will be many times
when you will have had enough
and want to quit.
Others have felt the same
for centuries,
And
God is bigger than all of it.
Remember that.
God will sustain you.
Return to your baptism daily.
Feast often upon God’s holy food.
Trust the companions
God will give you
for your journey.
Do not lose heart,
And
do not be afraid.
I wish I could tell you
that there will come a time
in your lifetime
when the church
will no longer be a place
of sexism,
heterosexism,
racism,
and bigotry,
and become a place
where words –
and deeds –
are no longer used
to inflict violence.
But
you’re smarter than that.
You know
that where there are people,
there will be pain.
Where there are people,
there will be abuses of power.
Words will often wound you,
And
the wounds will always hurt.
I wish that wounding words
worked like immunizations,
But
they do not.
They will hurt as much
33 years from now
as they do today,
And
you will be a different person then.
You will be smarter than you are today.
Trust that.
You will come to know
the importance of the exits.
Know where the doors are
in every place you serve,
every place you learn,
every place you are.
You do not have to be a punching bag
for another person’s pain.
You do not have to
simply take the arrows
that will come your way.
You do not have to be
“Minnesota nice”
when the words are hurled
like weapons to silence you.
You can speak truth to power
by walking out the door.
You can say
“no”
when others abuse you
by witnessing with your feet.
You can empower
someone else
to leave the playground
when there is a bully afoot
by leaving yourself.
Don’t be afraid to do it.
You will embody the Gospel
for yourself
and
for others
when you claim
that the church
is a place of safety
by using the door
when you have to.
So,
know where the exits are.
And
today,
on this your ordination day,
it’s not about exits –
it’s about a door
opened to you,
inviting you in,
calling to you,
And
sending you out.
Today,
the door opens
to your life of
Word and Sacrament
ministry.
Walk through it.
Know
that you have been
crucified with Christ,
And
“it is no longer you who lives,
but Christ who lives in you.”
“Enter God’s gates
with thanksgiving
and God’s courts
with praise.”
And
then go,
feed God’s sheep.
Tend God’s lambs.
Feed God’s sheep.
“Set your face
toward Zion’s Hill,
the city of your God.
Look not to the left or right,
but where your Master trod.”
“Take the yoke of Jesus
upon you,
learn from him,
for this yoke is easy,
And
Jesus’ burden is light.”
God bless your journey.
I’ll see you in 33 years.
Charlene